Insomnia
by lilacbird
Summary: Ever since I fell in love with Yuuri, night time has been my own personal hell... YuuRam
1. Wolfram

I hate the night-time. Perhaps I wouldn't hate it so much if I were to actually _sleep _(which admittedly would be a good idea), but ever since then I found myself dropping into unconsciousness later and later each night, and eventually I was barely sleeping at all.

Ever since I fell in love with Yuuri, night-time has been my own personal Hell.

Believe me, I didn't _want_ to fall in love with him, and I suppose it would be cliché to say that I couldn't help it. But I really _couldn't_. It's difficult to understand, especially to me. He was the child of a human, and hadn't even _heard_ of Shin Mazoku until a few years ago. He had no intention of fulfilling his duties as Maou. He slacked off in his work, he was clumsy and hapless and a fool in every meaning of the word. Not to mention a terrible flirt.

But somewhere along the way that irritating voice of his got less and less irritating, and that ridiculous grin, when directed at me, made my breath catch in my throat, and that bright gaze would make my heart pound and my stomach turn somersaults, and even an accidental touch here or there was enough to make my cheeks burn.

I couldn't ignore it. Every day he was there, making me fall in love with him all over again. But every time I would fall just that little bit harder. And it always hurt when I hit the ground.

It was at night when that would happen. It was at night, when I would sneak into the bed Yuuri and I shared (long after Yuuri had fallen asleep, as he wasn't above trying to throw me out) that I would start to think.

Yuuri would never truly accept me as his fiancé. He _couldn't_. And how could I expect him to, really? He had grown up in a world where same-sex couples were regarded as taboo, and he could never forget that. He wouldn't let me forget it, either.

So I would get angry. I would get angry because that's what I _do_, I _get angry._ Because it's easier that getting hurt. I'd take rage over sorrow any day. It was the mask i presented to the world, because, at the end of it all, I was scared.

I was scared of showing how weak I could be. And all for Yuuri. Only for Yuuri. I'd spent so much time, so much _effort_, building up the barrier I used to shield myself against the things that I feared. And in only a short time Yuuri had managed to strip me of my armour completely, leaving me feeling as naked and vulnerable as a newborn child.

I remember reading one of Yuuri's human books once. A diary, by a girl who was strong and self-confident and determined... until she fell in love. Then, she willingly admitted she would cast off every shred of her pride to be with the boy she loved, that she surrendered herself completely to his will. I was disgusted. I ripped those few blasphemous pages out and tore them into confetti. Then I burned the entire book. I felt physically sick with the atrocious display of weakness and emotion the 'heroine' showed. And part of that sickness came from the fact that I could see myself in that sad, stupid, silly little girl. If I had just a little less self-control, I would have thrown myself before Yuuri like she said she would have liked to do._ If_ I had less self-control. _If._

I sighed and rolled over onto my side, examining the face of the person I loved lying there beside me. I smirked and rolled my eyes as I noticed the thin trail of saliva that had escaped his mouth and ran down his chin. He was so hopeless, even when he slept.

I prodded his shoulder. "Yuuri?" I whispered. "Yuuri?"

I was answered only with silence, save the sound of Yuuri's quiet snores. Having double checked he was fast asleep, I slowly inched closer to him until my body was pressed completely against his and I could feel the warmth of him beside me. He squirmed and snorted in his sleep, and I froze. He would go crazy if he woke up to find me so close. The stupid wimp- we were _engaged,_ we were _supposed_ to do stuff like this. So why did he have to make me feel so guilty every time I did?

Yuuri's head lolled to one side and he quietened down. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I raised my head and shuffled closer to him, laying my head on his chest. I loved lying like this. I never thought I'd grow to love a human's scent so much. Every time he was close to me I had to resist the urge to bury my face in his clothes and breathe him in.

His heartbeat sounded so wonderful against my ear. The slow, steady rhythm was almost comforting to me. Not that I needed comforting.

Yuuri squirmed again, and his left arm moved to hook around my waist and pull me closer to him.

"Wimp," I muttered. Sometimes he would hold me close like that, and it really wasn't fair of him to do so if he had no intention of reciprocating my feelings. It wasn't right of him to give me false hope and make me feel so happy. It just made it all the more painful in the morning when he would leap away from me in disgust.

It wasn't that he was being deliberately hurtful or cruel. I knew that. It was just that Yuuri, as he'd told me on more occasions than was necessary, liked _girls._ The whole idea seemed stupid to me, but Yuuri had rules for falling in love that he would follow to his death. And those rules made sure I was kept solely at arm's length.

I had often wondered to myself (I had never asked Yuuri outright, it would be far too undignified), if I was a woman, would Yuuri consider falling in love with me? There was no doubt that we were close. We were easily close enough to ensure that, had Yuuri or I been female, we would have at least _considered_ a relationship.

I remember one night I had pondered this conundrum far too much, to the point where it clouded my judgement and reasoning.

It was my mother's birthday, and as she was the former Maou, a celebration was held, to which nobles from across the land were invited to. Within the first five minutes of the party Yuuri had assured me no less than ten times that he would definitely _not_ be dancing with me at any point in the evening.

So, for over three hours I sat on one of the chairs that lined the banquet hall and seethed as I was forced to endure my shameless fiancé allowing himself to be seduced by any cheap harlot who happened to take a liking to him. As if he couldn't see that they were only interested in him because of his status! I bit the insides of my cheeks raw trying to stop myself from shouting something out or marching out onto the dance floor and dragging him away by his ear. It was mother's night, after all, and I had _sworn _(after a little 'persuasion') to Gwendal and Conrad that I would not spoil it for her, no matter _what_ happened. They must have know something like that was going to happen.

It was impossible to endure such torture alone, so I had a glass of wine to calm my spirits. And of course, one glass turned into two, then three, and eventually I had lost count of just how much I had drank. Looking back it couldn't have been more than four or five glasses, but I was unused to alcohol, and drinking so much at once was bound to dull my mind a little.

The room was spinning, but I still managed to find Yuuri amongst the blurs. He was dancing with a girl who I'd never seen before, and it looked as if he'd just stepped on her foot. Typical, I thought. The both of them burst out laughing and Yuuri said something, though thanks to the distance between us and my fuzzy head I couldn't make out what it was. Then the girl leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, and he blushed.

I couldn't take it any more. To flatly reject me before the party had even started was one thing, but then to flirt so openly with a girl he had known not even a day was just too much. I had known Yuuri for years, and yet he would no doubt still retch at the thought of doing that with me. It wasn't fair. All I could think was that if I was a girl, Yuuri would give me a chance. If I was a girl, Yuuri would love me. If I was a girl. If I was... If...

I got up from my seat and marched out of the room, wobbling slightly from the effects of the alcohol. Amongst such a large crowd, nobody noticed I had gone.

I staggered past my room and into the en suite bathroom, where I promptly emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I dragged myself to my feet and saw my reflection in the mirror. I was ghostly white, and vomit dribbled down my chin and stuck in flecks to my hair. I had to turn away, ashamed of myself for letting Yuuri get to me so.

And when I did, that was when I saw my belt from the previous day hung up on the back of the door, a small dagger still in its sheath attached to the side.

In that moment I was as near to crazy as I ever had been. The mixture of alcohol and Yuuri's constant rejections had pushed me too far, and all I could think about was that girl who Yuuri embraced so easily, and if I was a girl, then maybe he would do the same to me.

With shaking hands I took the dagger from the belt and wandered dazedly back into Yuuri and I's bedroom. I sat down on the bed and quickly stripped myself of all my clothes- I didn't want them getting in the way. I spread my legs and took a deep breath.

Then I took the blade in my hand and I tried to cut away the cause of Yuuri's hatred of me.

Even in my drunken state it hurt. It hurt so much that my hands started shaking violently and went weak in a natural attempt to stop me causing myself more pain. But my love for Yuuri was far stronger than my love of comfort, or even my pride. I bit my lip and steadied my hand and carried on slicing, tears of pain pouring down my cheeks and blood staining my hands a sickening scarlet.

Somewhere along the way the pain became too much and I blacked out. I only came to when I heard the latching noise of the door opening.

"Wolf?"

It was Yuuri.

"Wolf, I'm sorry. Come back to the party," he said apologetically. My back was facing him, and he couldn't see the knife or the blood. "Hey, don't ignore me! I said I was sorry..."

There was a pause. "Wolfram?" Yuuri sounded worried now. "I-I'm not going over there until you put some clothes on. Wolfram?"

But when I still didn't reply, he did come over to me. I heard him squeak when he saw the state of me, though I couldn't see his face as my own eyes were fixed on my bloody lap. I raised my head slowly to look at him, fresh tears welling in my eyes.

Yuuri's mouth opened and closed ineffectively, like a goldfish. The only noise he could make was a faint, whispery whimper. He reached out his hand to touch my bare shoulder, and as he did so I could see him shaking.

"What have you done?" he whispered, horrified. He was looking at me with even less understanding than before, and all I could do was think how unfair it all was. He didn't like me as a man, but he didn't want me to be a woman either. I couldn't win.

I burst into tears.

Yuuri immediately reached forwards and took me in his arms, holding me close. I wept uncontrollably into him chest, no longer caring about anything. My dignity, my pride- they no longer mattered to me. All that mattered was Yuuri.

"Shh, Wolfram, shh, it'll be okay," Yuuri said, though I could hear the panic in his voice, and it sounded as if he was crying, too. "G-Gunter! Gisela!"

"No!" I gasped suddenly, grabbing his arm. "D-Don't tell... Please don't tell..." I didn't want anyone else to know the depths to which my love for Yuuri had driven me.

"But I have to," Yuuri whispered. Tears had escaped his eyes and were dribbling down his face. "You're... Wolfram, you're..."

I shook my head. "Please, Yuuri."

Yuuri looked at me with such hurt in his face, but he did not utter another word. Instead he gathered up some of the sheets that were bunched around me and dabbed gingerly at my thighs, stomach and between my legs, cleaning away as much blood as he could. He took off his jacket and carefully draped it around my shivering shoulders in an attempt to protect what little dignity I had left.

Then he took the knife from me and guided my hands away from where they lay limp. His hand replaced mine between my legs and he gently felt me all over, checking the severity of my injuries. I gasped and twitched as his bare fingers touched my open wounds, and each time he apologised sincerely. He was sobbing as he checked me. It was as if he knew that it was all for him.

"Ugh," I shook my head violently, trying to shake away the shameful memory. I had to let it go. I couldn't change the past, and I would forever bear the scars of what I did. Why did I insist on dwelling on it?

"Stupid Yuuri!" I said aloud, and I punched his shoulder without realising. Yuuri jumped- and opened his eyes.

"W-Wolfram?" he said sleepily, blinking at me with confusion in his eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks light up like a fire. I was still snuggled up against him, and his arm was still hanging loosely around my waist.

Yuuri yawned and turned over to face me. He wrapped both his arms around me and hugged me close to his chest. "Goodnight..." he whispered, and promptly fell back into the land of nod.

And I knew he was only doing it because he was half asleep. And I knew he wouldn't have done that if he was in a conscious state of mind. And I knew that come morning he would push me away and deny ever having held me like this.

But I wasn't ready of let go of Yuuri just yet.

So for now, I would just let myself enjoy the moment.

--

**Why does every YuuRam I write turn out tragic? I mean, **_**seriously,**_** YuuRam is one of those pairings that is just **_**made**_** for cuteness and comedy, and yet I have to turn it into something like **_**this.**_

**We all know how much Wolfram loves Yuuri, and having your hopes dashed time and time again has got to hurt. Wolfram doesn't often show this in the anime or manga- he's too proud to let it show. But when people are alone, a side that nobody else sees appears. I wrote this to show how loving someone can drive you insane, and for all those people who have ever fallen in love alone.**

**And just so you know, this will be a twoshot- the next chapter will be the same chain of events but from Yuuri's point of view. I know it seemed like he was being inconsiderate during the flashback, but that was because it was from Wolfram's viewpoint. You see, Wolfram isn't being intolerant with Yuuri- he genuinely believes that Yuuri flirts with others. I think that shows his insecurity, in a way.**

**I'm sorry if I made Wolfram a little OOC- I wanted to show his inner thoughts and emotions, but maybe I did that so dramatically that it made it difficult to see him thinking it...**

**Please read and review- I'd love to hear what you think! I hope to have the next chapter up soon.**


	2. Yuuri

It was the middle of the night, and I was half-asleep. I was too far gone to move or even open my eyes, and my thoughts were a little vague and my head a little hazy, but I was conscious enough to realise that I was at least _partly_ awake.

I could have happily drifted off into dreamland right there and then, but it seemed that His Royal Bratness was in one of _those_ moods again.

"Yuuri?" Something sharp dug into my shoulder, I guessed it was Wolfram's finger. I didn't have the strength to squirm away. "Yuuri?"

I let my mouth fall open and my snores escaped of their own accord. Perhaps if he thought I was sleeping he'd give up and leave me alone. But as usual, luck was not on my side, and Wolfram proceeded to shuffle up right beside me. I gave a little snort of indignation and I felt him tense. He obviously thought I was asleep.

I was too exhausted to show him otherwise, and, I found, I didn't really want to. He would be so embarrassed if he knew I was (half) awake, especially as he was now practically pressed flat against me and lying his head on my chest.

His feather light hair tickled my nose, and I could smell his shampoo (which, by the way, smelled _extremely_ expensive, no surprises there). It was almost funny how Wolfram could be so truly terrifying during, and yet still cuddle up to me like a little cat and feel lighter than he should have done lying on top of me.

One of his hands curled into a fist to grip the front of my pyjamas, and he buried his face in my chest and inhaled deeply. I should have been annoyed and embarrassed, but I wasn't. In the fogginess of my mind, I chastised myself for allowing myself to become used to his behaviour. Even welcoming it. My arm moved on its own to wrap around his waist and pull him closer.

It wasn't the first time Wolfram had gotten clingy during the night. This was about the tenth time that I was aware of, but it might have happened while I was asleep too. My shoulder was now permanently bruised from where he kept prodding me. Who knows how long it had been going on for?

Wolfram always made sure I was asleep first. The first time I'd felt those sharp fingers digging into my side, I'd woken up right away and asked "What is it?" Even in the darkness, I saw Wolfram's face turn a bright scarlet and he had shook his head and mumbled "Nothing," before turning his back to me and pulling the duvet over his head.

His reaction had made me curious, so the next time I felt a poke on my shoulder, I ignored it and pretended to be asleep. Wolfram had proceeded to hug me as if I were a teddy bear.

I shouldn't have let him do it, but I did. And after a while I got used to it. It even began to feel, well, _nice._ I had been sleeping in the same bed as Wolfram for a long time, but we had never cuddled like this before- which was probably my fault.

I couldn't fall in love with him. I thought that was obvious from the start. He was a man, and so was I. It could never work. It took me forever to get used the idea of being _engaged _to this foul-tempered creature, and could only accept it by telling myself over and over that we didn't _have_ to get married, we could call off the engagement any time; and anyway, it was just an accident. It didn't_ mean_ anything.

At first, I wasn't worried at all. It was inconceivable to me that I could even _think_ of developing feelings for Wolfram. I'd always liked girls before. Heck, my first kiss was from a girl. To suddenly switch to guys was just plain _stupid._

But that was at first. It had been a long time since then, and last year I realised something. I was starting to see same-sex relationships as normal. Even worse, I was starting to get used to the idea of marrying another man.

And I couldn't let that happen. So that was when I swore to myself that, no matter what, I _would not_ let myself fall in love with Wolfram.

And it worked. I knew I could never truly accept Wolfram's feelings for me- it was too shameful, too embarrassing to bear. So I didn't fall in love with him. But at night, away from the prying eyes of the world and away from the cruel light that forced me to see that the person in front of me was undoubtedly _male_, I changed, ever so slightly.

I didn't mind Wolfram snuggling up to me and laying his head on my chest and breathing me in. It was odd, because if he did that in the day, while I was awake, then I would have gone crazy. But at night I _liked_ feeling the warmth of his body against mine.

I resisted the urge to sigh. I was such a hypocrite. It was okay for Wolfram and I to do this as long as nobody found out, as long as nobody could see, as long as nobody could know. That was why I faked sleep. I didn't want even Wolfram to know how much I enjoyed his presence. It would be unfair to him. He would start to believe that I could actually fall for him.

I had to give him the chance to get over me. For some reason the thought of it made my heart sting, but I knew it was true. I knew how much Wolfram's love for me affected him. It was hurting him more than he would ever admit. I could see it eating away at him; every time I pushed him away I broke his heart all over again, and every time I rejected him I knocked his confidence just that little bit more.

I hated to do it. But what else could I do?

Once it almost pushed him over the edge.

It was Lady Cheri's birthday (don't ask me how old she was, I don't know!) and a party was held in her honour. I told Wolfram firmly before it began that I would _not_ dance with him, not under any circumstances. For one, it would be embarrassing for me to dance with a man, and two, I would most likely mess it all up and he would end up yelling at me. He protested fiercely of course, but I stood my ground, and eventually Gwendel stepped in to defend me, so he had to give up.

I started to feel guilty then. I knew Wolfram would react like that, and he stomped away before I got the chance to explain that I wasn't planning on dancing with _anyone_. It wouldn't be fair of me to reject him and accept others.

But things didn't always go according to plan, especially when _I _was involved. I went to follow him, but Greta appeared out of nowhere and practically tackled me.

"Dance with me, Daddy!" she begged.

"Well, I was actually going to..." I trailed off as Greta turned her infamous puppy-dog eyes on me full blast. She didn't forget the pout, either. I looked helplessly between her and Wolfram, who was pouring himself a glass of wine in a rather violent manner.

I decided that it might be a good idea to give him some time to cool off before approaching him. But after my short dance with Greta (she wore me out, making me pick her up and whirl her around so much), she dragged me by the hand to a young noblewoman who she had befriended earlier. It seemed she had promised her a dance with me. I didn't feel as if I could refuse, especially at the risk of the dreaded puppy-dog eyes.

I ended up dancing with Mariella (that was the noblewoman's name) longer than I had intended. She was surprisingly _normal_ for a resident of Shin Mazoku, and it was refreshing to talk to her. She did notice, however, that my dancing skills were poor, and practically handed me over to a friend of hers, who said she would teach me properly.

I wasn't a very good student. I kept getting my lefts and rights mixed up and stepping forward when I should have stepped back and vice versa. Rosa was very patient with me, but she could tell she was fighting a losing battle. In nearly an hour all she managed to teach me were a few simple steps. By this time I think she was desperate to get rid of me, so she called over her younger sister so I could show her my newfound skills.

By then I was worried. I kept glancing at Wolfram. He glared daggers at me as I stumbled around the dance hall with Elisabeth in hand. His head kept nodding, as if he were about to fall asleep but just stopped himself each time. He was still holding a glass of wine in his hand, which he took angry gulps from at intervals.

I took a wrong step and bumped into Elisabeth. I apologised profusely, but Elisabeth just laughed it off and made a joke about it, and I found myself laughing too. She was a nice girl, the sort you _wanted_ to laugh with. In the back of my mind, though, I fretted over how we must have looked to Wolfram.

The song ended and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Elisabeth, I really have to go," I said.

Elisabeth hooked her arms around my neck. "Just one more song," she begged. Her eyes made a quick flicker in Wolfram's direction and she smirked. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Then I'll let you two have your fun, okay?"

I felt my cheeks grow warm. What was she trying to say?! I was so desperate to get off the subject that I hastily agreed to her 'one more song' idea. It wasn't a very long song, thankfully- maybe only four or five minutes long. Elisabeth and I curtseyed and bowed respectively, and I hastily retreated to the side of the hall where Wolfram was.

Except he wasn't there any more. I asked around and found that nobody had seen him for at least five minutes. I rolled my eyes. Most likely he was in our room, sulking. I dreaded what he would do to me when he saw me, but in this case I did sort of bring it upon myself, and the most mature thing to do would be to take my just desserts. Painful, bitter desserts...

I left the main hall and made for our room, working out my apology and explanation in my head. Not that I'd be able to say it before my head had been kicked clean off my shoulders.

I made it to our room and opened the door. "Wolf?"

He was sat on the bed, his bare back to me. He was undressed, he must have just used the bath or be just about to.

"Wolf, I'm sorry. Come back to the party," I tried. He continued to ignore me. What was with this silent treatment? Usually he'd be all over me, shrieks of 'cheater' filling my ears. Somehow that would have been preferable to _this._ "Hey, don't ignore me! I said I was sorry..."

I stood there in silence for a while, waiting for Wolfram to respond. He didn't. I began to worry.

"Wolfram? I-I'm not coming over there until you put some clothes on," I said, trying to sound firm and failing miserably. "Wolfram?"

I couldn't stand it any more. I marched over to Wolfram, wondering if he had fainted sitting up as a result of all the wine he had drunk.

But _I_ was the one who nearly fainted when I saw him. Wolfram was covered waist-down in blood. _His_ blood. And he was holding a knife in his hand... It took me a while for my brain to register what I was seeing. I lost the ability to speak and could only gape stupidly at him. What had he done? _What had he done?_

Slowly he lifted his head to look at me. There were smears of blood on his face, mingled with sweat and tears. His damp hair clung to his forehead. His breathing was shaky, and tears shimmered in his eyes. Such sad eyes.

"What have you done?" I managed to choke out. But I knew what he had done. In that moment I knew. I reached out to touch his shoulder, my arm shaking. His skin was cold and clammy and I gasped as I felt it.

I looked Wolfram in the eyes for the first time, and he stared back. After a few seconds Wolfram's face crumpled and he began to cry.

No longer caring that he was naked, I pulled him into a hug, my arms wrapped around his trembling body protectively. I let him howl into my chest as I stroked his wet hair and tried to comfort him.

"Shh, Wolfram, shh, it'll be okay," I whispered. But it wasn't okay. He had tried to cut his penis, and it was because of me. It was all my fault. Because I would dance and laugh and flirt with girls, and not with him. Because I would reject him over and over for the simple fact that he was a man. Because I had broken his heart, countless, countless times. Tears began to slide down my cheeks. "G-Gunter!" I shouted. I was panicking by now, and struggling to breathe. "Gisela!"

"No!" Wolfram's hand latched onto my arm, squeezing it hard. "D-Don't tell..." he whimpered. "Please don't tell..."

"But I have to," I said helplessly. "You're... Wolfram, you're..."

He flopped against me, his temporary surge of strength leaving him. "Please, Yuuri." He shook his head before leaning it on my shoulder.

I looked down at him and it felt as if I was staring at a stranger. A whole new side to him had revealed itself; a lonely, sad, scared, vulnerable side that I had never seen before. Suddenly, Wolfram felt very small and fragile in my arms.

I bunched up some of the bed-sheets in my hands and carefully mopped at the blood, cleaning Wolfram up best I could. In a daze I took off my jacket and wrapped it around him- he was shivering. Then I slowly slid the knife out of his hands. He didn't try to take it back, which I was grateful for. Placing it on the bed beside me, I then moved his bloody hands to lie limply by his sides.

Holding him to my chest with one my right hand, I moved my left to gently cup between his legs. His body jerked when I touched him, but I didn't pull away. I took him into my hand and felt him up and down, checking how deeply he had cut. I didn't feel at all awkward or embarrassed about touching him there. The situation was far too frightening for me to care about such stupid things.

By the time I had finished checking him, Wolfram had lost consciousness. I laid him down gently on the bed and stroked his cold forehead. Then I took the bloody sheets and washed them in the bathroom sink- I couldn't risk going down to the laundry room and letting the maids see. It was difficult to wash with only hand soap and water, but somehow I managed it, leaving only a few pink stains behind that I hoped nobody would notice.

Gisela was the only one I told. She was very good about it and didn't demand any sort of explanation. It was like she already understood the situation completely. She sewed Wolfram up and healed him to the best of her abilities while he was still unconscious, and helped me bathe him afterwards. Wolfram must have noticed the stitched when he woke up the next morning, but he didn't mention it. He acted as if the whole incident had never happened. I don't think he wanted to admit to what he did, and I didn't want to upset him again, so I didn't mention it either. People whispered about why Wolfram was limping and unable to sit down properly for a long time, but nobody ever found out was really happened.

At that was the way Wolfram and I planned to keep it. That way, Wolfram wouldn't have to face up to his weaknesses, and I wouldn't have to accept just how serious our relationship was.

"Ugh," Wolfram suddenly shook his head against my chest and his hands tightened around the front of my pyjama shirt. "Stupid Yuuri!" And he punched my shoulder. Hard.

_Ow!_

I opened my eyes properly. Wolfram had just punched the last of the tiredness out of me.

"W-Wolfram?" I said, blinking the sleep from my eyes. I looked down at him, confused. Why did he hit me? I didn't _do_ anything!

Wolfram blushed bright red and hid his face against me. "Shut up," he muttered grumpily. I held back a chuckle. If only he knew how many times I'd been awake while he clung to me!

I yawned and a contented smile took over my face. I was really such an idiot. I was always thinking about how great it would be if only Wolfram gave me more freedom, if only he let me go and moved on.

But in truth, I didn't know what I would do if he ever stopped loving me.

I turned onto my side and pulled him close, our bodies pressed together. Wolfram struggled half-heartedly for a moment for giving in and relaxing against me. His face was still hidden against my chest, and I rested lowered my head slightly to bury my nose in his hair. My nose, chin and _lips_ pressed against the top of his head.

It wasn't a kiss, though.

I knew that things would be more than a little awkward in the morning. I would go into my usual state of denial and Wolfram would storm off in a huff like he often did, leaving me feeling guilty over 'nothing'.

But I wasn't ready for Wolfram to let me go just yet.

So for now, I just wanted him to enjoy the moment.

--

**Yuuri's point of view is a lot harder to write than Wolfram's, in my opinion... I did all I could at the time, but somehow it feels like I could have done better. That's a little disappointing!**

**Anyway, I'm glad I got to explain Yuuri's behaviour at the party here, though he does still seem a little childish in my opinion. He tries to please all of the people all of the time, and he doesn't realise that** **Wolfram keeps getting pushed to the bottom of the pile.**

**I'd like to know what you thought of this story (yes this is the end), so please leave a review if you have the time!**


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